


Like Real People Do

by Plaided_Ani



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adult Language, F/M, First Time Parents, Fluff, NSFW, Pregnancy, Smut, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-05-29 12:21:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15073043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plaided_Ani/pseuds/Plaided_Ani
Summary: You hate Dean Winchester and he hates you.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is for @ain-t-bovvered and @waywardbaby‘s 7 Deadly Sins Challenge. 
> 
> My two picks were wrath and “Sometimes I just really want to rip your clothes off.” 
> 
> This might turn into a series, so I wanna thank these two for inspiring me and I want to congratulate them both on their 666 followers! Sorry if this is not up to par with rest of the stories (which I need to catch up on), but here’s my gift to you!

It was rare for you to get a call from the Winchesters and when you did, it was almost always from Sam. You didn’t need to see the man to imagine those big doe eyes staring at you and those pretty pink lips pulled into a pout when he asked you for a favor. And you always said yes to him because you’d burn in the lowest, hottest pit in Hell if you said anything otherwise. 

But the call you got that morning was from Dean and he wasn’t asking for help. Grumpy, not had his coffee yet, growly Dean fucking Winchester. “An entire coven, Y/N. An entire coven 5 miles from where you call home and you’ve done nothing about it?”

“Well, had I known there was one, I would’ve taken care of it, Winchester,” you snapped and willed your coffee maker to brew faster so you didn’t throw your phone out of the window.

“Do you read the news,” he bit out sarcastically. 

You clenched your jaw and closed your eyes to take a deep, calming breath so you wouldn’t rise to the bait. “Fuck you,” you shot back.

“Nice comeback,” Dean snorted. “Now, are you going to help us deal with this mess or are you going to sit on your ass and pretend like nothing’s happening like you’ve been doing?” Your answer was to hang up your phone and ignore the rest of his calls while you texted Sam for their motel address. 

You took your time with breakfast and getting ready before you geared up and met the boys at a shithole on the outskirts of town. Thankfully it was Sam who answered the door and pulled you into one of his big, warm, all encompassing hugs that made your crappy morning better. 

But, of course, Dean ruined that not even a half minute later. “You took your sweet time.”

“You weren’t dying and nothing was on fire, I didn’t think I needed to rush,” you scowled when you stepped into the room. 

“Other people have been dying,” Dean reminded you. He slapped several case files into your chest and glared down at you. “If you’re gonna call yourself a hunter, maybe you should start acting like one.

Sam sighed heavily and pulled the two of you apart before fists started to fly. “What’s done is done, Dean. She’s here to help now, give her a break.”

“Oh, don’t you start,” he growled at his younger brother. “I don’t know why you have such a soft spot for her.”

“It’s because I’m adorable,” you quipped, not bothering to look up as you flipped through the files. 

Dean opened his mouth and pointed a finger your way, but Sam placed a hand on his brother’s chest and whatever he was going to say died in his throat. Instead, he stomped out of the room and, undoubtedly, to his car.

“Look, Dean’s been on edge lately,” Sam tried to explain, but you put up a hand to stop him. “Okay, fair enough. We’ll be outside when you’re ready.” He patted you on the shoulder as he passed and left you alone in their room. 

“God,” you said aloud and tossed the folders onto the small dining table, “if you’re listening, please let me make it through the day without murdering Dean Winchester. Amen.” You took a deep breath and joined them outside, opting to follow in your truck than being cooped up in backseat with no way of escaping Dean’s foul mood.

Luckily, the witches were greenies and you guys were able to them out with little to no trouble. Curses were flung everywhere, though, both real and fake and you’re not sure what you were hit with, but you didn’t seem to feel anything when you put the last witch killing bullet into the head of the High Priestess.

“There,” you said when you tossed your gear into backseat, “are you happy now?”

“No,” Dean snapped, “this wouldn’t have been an issue if you actually did your job.”

“We’re done having this argument, Dean.” You held up your hand in his face to stop any other comment he had to make which he promptly slapped away. 

“We are having this argument, Y/N,” he growled as he charged into your space, shrugging off Sam’s attempt to pull him back. “We’re not going to be here forever to clean up your messes. You need to step up your game or consider a new line of work.”

You were stunned, open mouthed and wide eyed. Dean had stormed off once again before Sam apologized for the both of them and praised you on a job well done. With one final hug, you three parted ways and you drifted back to your safe house, alone and doubting yourself.

It was a quarter to three in the morning when the hinge rattling knocks woke you up. You padded through the small cabin and pulled open the front door to see a red faced Dean Winchester glaring down at you. “What is it now,” you rasped, trying to sound pissed but sleep was still pulling at your brain. 

“I hate you,” he snarled and bodied his way passed you and into your living room where he started to pace.

“That’s great, Dean,” you yawned. “Now, can you get the fuck out so I go back to sleep.”

“You’re cocky, arrogant, stupid,” he continued with his hands dug tight into his hair. “But you’re strong and independent and a damn good shot.” You blinked rapidly and tried to follow his train of thought, but there didn’t seem to be one. “Sometimes I don’t know if I want to force you to hunt with us to make you better or just keep you locked up so you don’t have to.”

You recoiled slightly at the last bit, “I’m pretty sure that’s kidnapping, Dean.”

“Shut up,” he snapped and froze in the middle of the room to stare at you.

“Sometimes I just wanna drop by and check on you to make sure you’re not dead,” he admitted, the heat leaving his tone. “And sometimes I just really want to rip your clothes off.”

You gawked, standing there in your tank top and cotton shorts, hair falling out of the bun you put it in before you passed out. You’re pretty sure there’s still drool on your face and bags under your eyes, but Dean stared at you like you were a piece of meat on a blue light special. “What?”

“You heard me, Y/N,” he replied, voice dropping to a husky murmur.

“This is a dream,” you insisted when he stepped forward. “A really, really bad nightmare and you’re going to eat me.”

“The thought had crossed my mind,” he nodded and licked his lips with his gaze dropping to your cloth covered core. “Thought about doing a lot more than that, though.”

“You’re insane!” You slowly backed away as he stalked towards you, stepping over your coffee table and crappy couch. Your back hit the wall and he pinned you to it with his firm, broad body. “Witches,” you squeaked. “They put a curse on you or something. A lust spell or whatever?”

Dean slowly shook his head as he leered down at you, two strong arms boxed you in, “‘s a truth spell. I told Sam he smelled like hot garbage when we got back to the room. He always smells like that after a hunt, wouldn’t have told him otherwise.”

You paused, face screwed up in confusion, “Wait, what?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Dean pressed on. “Point is, I want you, Y/N. I fucking hate that I want you and I fucking hate that you don’t want me.”

“I never said…” You trailed off to watch him drag his bottom lip through his teeth before pinching them around his tongue. “Can you not?”

Rumbling laughter bubbled in his throat, “Something wrong, Y/N?”

“Yes,” you frowned and used what little strength you had on him to push him and his stupid, pretty mouth away. “This is wrong. All of it. You need to get out, Dean.”

You’re not sure if he let you overpower him or not, but he stumbled back and hit the back of your couch. “So you don’t want me?”

“You’re pumped full of voodoo, dude.” You shook your head and pointed at the door, “Go.”

But he didn’t, he stood right there and slowly licked his lips once more. “Hate sex is the best kind, you know?”

“Dean,” you groaned, slapping both of your hands to your face to hide him from your view. 

“C’mon, you’re telling me you haven’t thought about it? You and me, ripping each others clothes off, fucking like animals.”

Your hands dropped and you stared at him once more, “Yeah, okay. I’m calling Sam.”

“I mean, I don’t normally share, but if he just sits and watches, I’m cool with it,” Dean shrugged nonchalantly.

“In. Sane,” you ground out and headed towards your bedroom with his heavy footsteps following you. When you reached the threshold, you stopped in your tracks and he collided into your back, but caught you before you could fall. Of course, that wasn’t your brightest idea because it had his arms wrapped around you from behind and his head dropped to nose at your neck. “Dean,” you warned.

“Why are you fighting this, Y/N,” he whispered against your skin, his hot and heavy tongue licked a stripe along your pulse.

“Because you’re not in your right mind, Winchester,” you weakly replied, but ever so slightly tilted your head to the side to maybe give him a bit more room to work. 

You could feel the smile against you that was soon followed by a chuckle. “Maybe I am for the first time,” he whispered. His teeth scraped against your flushed skin before he bit down to claim that spot for his own. 

You gasped and squeezed your eyes shut, your backside pressed further into his front where you could feel just how much Dean wanted it, wanted you. “I’m going to regret this in the morning,” you sighed. 

“Doubt it,” Dean quipped and spun you around before he pressed his lips firmly against yours. Countless lonely nights had you dreaming about that moment and none of them did it justice. His mouth was two heavenly pillows, soft and sweet and more than perfect. But that tongue? Lucifer couldn’t hold a candle to how sinful it was as it licked into your mouth and pulled out your soul. 

“Fuck me,” you panted when you parted, dizzy and in awe. 

“That’s the idea, sweetheart,” he chuckled and slapped his hands on the back of your thighs, lifting you up and carrying you to the bed before you could wrap your head around what was going on. He tossed you unceremoniously onto the bed and crawled between your parted legs only to capture your mouth once more.

From there it was all wandering hands and greedy mouths. He had you out of your pajamas in no time, but you struggled with his million layers. “Is there a reason why you wear so many damn clothes,” you growled as you pulled off one shirt only to find another one underneath. 

“Makes getting to the prize even sweeter, darlin’,” he grinned above you and grabbed the back hem of his undershirt and pulled it off with ease. “I’d make you work for it, but we both know how much you suck at your job.”

“Eat me, dick,” you spat and slapped him right on his anti-possession tattoo. 

“Was that a request?” He winked playfully and worked on his belt as you writhed impatiently below him. “Didn’t expect you to be so needy, Y/N. Been a while, huh?”

“If you’re just going to insult me, you can fuck right off,” you pouted, but gave him a hand to pop his button free and work down the zipper. 

Dean stopped your hand, holding it in his own as the playful grin on his lips turned serious. “I can leave if you want me to.”

“Shut up and get it in already, Winchester,” you rolled your eyes and pulled your hand free. He shrugged and wiggled out of his jeans and briefs, tossing them aside without a care in the world before he covered you entirely with his body. His arms tucked under your shoulders and you took the hint to help guide in him. No foreplay, no loving declarations, just one hard thrust and two satisfied groans.

“Think you can handle this,” he murmured against your ear as he reared back. 

“I didn’t think you’d talk this much during sex,” you huffed in annoyance and dug your hands into the meat of his shoulders hard enough to leave your halfmoon marks. 

“Just with you,” he chuckled and rammed home. You fought against the whimper in your throat, but one pounding thrust after another broke it free and had Dean preening. “Feel good?”

“Shut up and keep going,” you replied breathlessly. Your legs locked around his waist and your fingers twisted into his hair as the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin echoed around you. His sweat slicked body slid against yours, but he knew just want angle to hit to get you moaning like a two-bit whore. 

He nudged your jaw with his nosed, whining softly until you turned your head to meet him with another kiss, opened mouth and a bit sloppy, but every bit as perfect as the last dozen you shared. “Who’s needy now,” you teased against his chin. 

“I’m not fucking ashamed to admit it,” Dean replied and pulled back. He hooked his arms under legs and pinned your knees to your chest before railing into you like his life depended on it. “Needed you for a while now.”

Your brain couldn’t comprehend that statement, it was too heavy and sentimental for the barrage of bone shattering thrusts. All you could manage to get out was a nonsensical, “Guh,” followed by pleasured sobs. 

“Mhm,” he hummed and drove deeper inside you, his hips pistoning at an unforgiving pace. “Gonna make you cum, Y/N, just like this.” His body dropped against yours once more to fold you practically in half. “Could give you this every night,” he continued, though you’re not sure how he could even function at the rate he was going. “Every fucking night just you and me, nothing between us but those pretty little sounds you’re making.”

You were going to lose your goddamn mind, you were sure of it. Damn those witches and their stupid spells, you did not need hear any of this, not here, not now, not when he was nine inches deep and working you to your brink. “You like it, don’t you,” he chuckled breathlessly. “Don’t need a witch to figure that one out.”

“Shut up,” you cried out weakly as you desperately clung to your sheets.

Dean shook his head, shaking loose a drop of sweat from his forehead to drop on your cheek. “I can feel it, Y/N, from the way you clench around me. Can’t lie to me, sweetheart, not like this.” He leaned down and kissed your nose, laughing in your face when he did. “Cum for me, baby, show me.” And you couldn’t help you, you did. Your body convulsed around him and you let out a strangled cry of his name. 

He ate it all up, let you ride out your pleasure until you were quivering, sobbing mess and when you were done, he pounded into you until he growled your name and spilled into as deep as he could.

-

You didn’t speak of that night for a long time. 

Whenever the Winchesters had a job out your way, Sam was the one to call, the one to text. You worked whatever case they had for you without complaint.

And then the alarm went off when you were Flagstaff, chasing down a werewolf the boys caught wind off. You stared down at the small plastic stick and hissed, “Son of a bitch.” 

When Dean finally picked up his phone you sighed heavily at his silent greeting. “Figure out what those witched cursed me with,” you explained while trying to keep your voice steady. 

“Not lucky enough for a truth spell,” he asked flatly.

“I wish.” You tapped the stick against the motel sink and psyching yourself up to mutter, “I’m pregnant, Dean.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Dean talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out to be WAY fluffier than I was planning it to be, but knowing Dean, they’ll be angst and manpain.
> 
> Thanks for reading and I’d appreciate any feedback you may have. ;) Love you all.

Your admission hung in the air between you and ended with Dean hanging up. It honestly didn’t surprise you, you’d probably do the same if you were in his shoes. The hunter life wasn’t meant for families and happy endings, especially when a Winchester was involved. You’d deal with it, though, like you always did.

The werewolf was put down before the end of the day and you were back in your hotel to pack up when your phone rang. Dean’s name sat on the screen and your heart started to race. Hesitantly, you swiped to answer, “If you’re calling about the werewolf, it’s dead.”

“We need to meet.” His tone was even, business-like. You knew where that conversation would lead and you didn’t want to have it, not face to face.

“I’m still in Flagstaff, heading back to Denver in the morning.” 

On his end you heard rustling and then a door close. “I’ll meet you there,” he said and hung up on you yet again. 

Sleep didn’t come easy and you had a long drive ahead. You weren’t sure if you were going to make it with only one cup of coffee, but you did. Barely. 10 hours later you pulled up to your cabin with the Impala already waiting for you. 

You steeled yourself when you stepped inside, but Dean wasn’t in your living room or in the bedroom when you dropped off your stuff. You thought about calling out to him, but you found him eating a cup of Ramen at your kitchen table. “That stuff is bad for you,” you chastised, but your stomach called out for food. “It’s loaded with sodium.”

“Then why do you have it,” he asked with his mouth full.

“Because it’s cheap and easy to make.” You searched through your fridge to make yourself a sandwich. Silence fell between you once more while you piled up ham and cheese, smothering the bread with mayo and mustard. You could feel Dean’s eyes on you while you worked and you fought the blush that threatened your cheeks. Two sandwiches and six spears of pickles on your plate, you sat across from him with an expectant look. 

Dean scowled at the food piled in front of you. “Do you normally eat that much?”

“I skipped lunch to get here,” you confessed sheepishly. “Is it a problem?”

“No,” he answered quickly and held his hands up in defense. You went about filling up your stomach and Dean finished off his noodles. “Are you sure?”

“Unlike the rest of my life, my period runs like clockwork,” you replied with half a pickle hanging out of your mouth. “I was late and took the test. I plan on making an appointment with a doctor tomorrow to confirm it. But I’m positive.”

He sat back and laced his hands on the back of his head, eyes trained on you. “What do you plan on doing?”

“You’re leaving the decision up to me?” That was surprising considering that Dean had long since expressed his ideals about the apple pie life. 

“It’s your body,” he shrugged. 

You stared, not believing him. “You don’t want a family, Dean. Even if I decide to keep the baby, I don’t expect you to stick around. I’m surprised you even called back. I thought you’d change your number and delete me from your memory.”

His brow furrowed and his hands dropped to his lap. “The thought had crossed my mind,” he admitted. “I talked to Sam, he told me to call you, said I owed you this much.” He waved a hand between you before he leaned against the table. “I’m not trying to be a dick here, but you know this isn’t going to end well. I can’t worry about Sam and Cas and you and a fucking kid.”

“Then you don’t have to,” you snapped back. “Lose my number and I’ll lose yours.”

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes, “Like that’s going to make a difference.”

“Then what do you want, Dean? Why even bother asking me what I wanted if you’re going to make the decision for me?” You were yelling at that point, your food long forgotten. 

“I don’t know,” he hollered back, unable to meet your gaze any longer. 

“I’m getting a headache,” you groaned. Your head fell to the table and you willed yourself to calm down. 

Neither of you spoke for a while. Dean eventually gathered up his trash and washed his fork. You watched him from the table, the tension in his shoulders visible even under all those layers. He moved back to you eventually and squatted next to your chair. Cautiously, he placed a hand on your knee and squeezed. You had half a mind to slap it away, but another part of you sought it out and covered it with your own. 

He tugged you from the table and pulled you through the kitchen into your living room. You fell onto the couch, into his open arms and he held onto you as you hid away in his neck. His hand rubbed at your back after he kicked up his feet. You weren’t supposed to enjoy this, it shouldn’t feel right. He was Dean and you were you, you were supposed to ripping each others throats out, not cuddling on your couch with him murmuring sweet nothings in your ear like you meant something to him.

You’re not sure when you fell asleep, but when you woke, you were in your bed and spooned by Dean. When tried to free yourself from his hold, he pulled your closer and nosed into your hair. “Where are you goin’,” he mumbled. 

“Gotta pee.” You peeled his arm from your waist and padded to your bathroom. You were still in your road clothes, so you disrobed to your undershirt and undies once you relieved yourself. When you returned, Dean’s sleepy gaze rested steadily on the door you emerged from. “Go back to sleep.”

“You alright,” he yawned and motioned you back into his arms. 

You’re not sure what caused the change in his attitude, or yours, but you crawled back into bed and under your covers to let him pull you close once more. “Yeah. Fine.” He pressed against you from behind, his hand not so subtly rested against your stomach when you settled into place. 

Sleep overtook you once again and when you woke for the second time, Dean was gone. You tried not to panic, but you could hear banging around in your kitchen. You shuffled through your cabin and found the older hunter with his head stuck in your fridge. “There isn’t much in there,” you slurred sleepily.

He jumped at your voice but straightened with a nod. “I can see that. Do you own anything that isn’t microwaveable?” You tilted your head in thought and shook it. “Get dressed, we’re going out.”

“What?”

“You have nothing in your house that isn’t frozen or in a can, we’re going out,” Dean repeated.

You blinked, taken aback at his sudden need for nutritional value. “What’s going on with you?”

“What? Nothing,” he scoffed. “C’mon, let’s go.” He shooed you out of your own kitchen and back towards your room. 

“Alright, bossy, chill out.” You took a quick shower and dressed in your comfiest jeans and your most oversized sweater with your hair pulled back into a messy bun. When you joined Dean, he was changed as well, not wearing the plaid and jeans from the day before, which meant he packed a bag to meet you. That also meant that he most likely planned to stay, that he wanted the conversation to end in a more agreeable favor. “Where are we going?”

“To get the best pancakes in Denver,” he replied. You climbed into the Impala and pulled out your phone. You said you were going to make an appointment with your doctor and he watched you from the corner of his eye as you agreed to a three o’clock slot, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. A matra of ‘it’s gonna be okay’ rang in your head until you almost started to believe it.

The small diner you first met the Winchesters in was four miles outside of town. Flo, your most favorite person in the entire world, always worked the morning shift and when you walked in with Dean in tow, she waved you down. “Lucky for you, your table is empty,” she chirped and lead you to the back corner. You slid in with Dean across from you and she slapped down two menus, though she was sure neither of you needed one. “Coffee, black,” she pointed to Dean, “three sugars and a whole lotta cream,” she winked at you before gliding away.

You picked up the menu and hid behind it. “Why are you still here?”

“Do you want me to go?”

You peeked over the top of the plastic divider and watched as he rearranged his silverware. “I’d like an honest answer.”

“I had a daughter,” he confessed, “sort of. She was mine but she was an Amazon. It’s complicated.” 

“Had?”

“She was going to kill me, needed to to complete her initiation,” Dean explained and waved vaguely. “Sam killed her.”

You dropped the menu when Flo returned, coffees set in front of you both. You ordered a three stack, Dean took a six and she left you in peace once more. “Is he going to kill this one?”

“What? No,” he practically yelled which made, you and the neighboring table, jump. “No,” he cleared his throat. “Look, I’m not father material, alright? I’m the last fucking person you want around a kid because all I cause is death and destruction. But that’s my blood, that’s my family. If you want to keep him... or her, then fuck…”

“I’m not keeping you to a commitment you don’t want,” you told him calmly. “I can keep myself safe, Dean. I’ve survived this long by myself, I can keep a baby safe, too.”

His jaw clenched and he took in a deep, steady breath. “I’m telling you that I’m going to try, Y/N. But you’re coming back to the bunker.”

“What,” you grimaced. “I hate it there. It’s stuffy and musty and there are no windows.”

“That’s my home you’re talking about,” he growled and pointed a warning finger at you. “Just… let me have this. We’ll do everything else your way, but give me this one thing.”

A Winchester child was going to have every supernatural creature on your ass and you hated to admit it, but the bunker was the safest place for you. “Fine,” you conceded and stole one of his pancakes in retribution. 

The doctor’s office was quiet and empty save for you and Dean. When the nurse called you back, you gave him to option to stay or come with and, hesitantly, he followed you back. He hovered as your vitals were taken and second guessed the need for any blood she drew from you. The nurse assured him everything was necessary and she tried not to coo over the ‘possible first dad worries’.

Not a word passed between you two during your wait. You buried your nose into a Homes and Garden magazine while Dean fiddled with his phone. It took nearly a half hour for the doctor to finally join you and you nearly missed his greeting with the blood rushing in your ears. 

“So, your iron’s low,” Dr. Oswald informed you. “Everything else seems to be good, though. You can get prenatal vitamins at any grocery store. I don’t think you’ll need an iron supplement as long as you keep up with the protein, red meat, chicken, beans, spinach, you get the idea. Do you need recommendations for an OBGYN?”

You stared blankly at the man, still trying to process the information. “Uh no,” Dean answered for you, “we’ll be moving soon. So, what was that about vitamins?” Their conversation turned to static as your mind raced. You were very much pregnant with Dean Winchester’s child and you were so incredibly fucked.

The rest of the day floated by. Dean stopped at a store to grab what the doctor suggested and you were back at your cabin as he packed your bags. You sat on the bed and stared at the floor while he moved around you, not bothering to break you out of your mood. If he was freaking out, he was doing a good job of hiding it.

You finally snapped out of it when you crossed the Kansas state line, “Oh god.”

“What,” Dean quickly glanced over at you. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m going to have a baby,” you whimpered. “Your baby. Oh god!”

“Okay. It’s okay. Keep it together. It’s a fine. Everything’s fine. Please don’t make me crash my car,” he pleaded.

You stared at him with wild eyes and shouted, “How can you be so calm about this, asshole?! You knocked me up and we’re having a fucking child.” You landed the hardest punch you could muster on his arm and he cried out as the car swerved.

“Cut the shit, Y/N,” he yelled back. “If you crash this fucking car, I swear…” You curled into a ball next to your door, your knees tucked into your sweater, but you did as you were told, at least until you got to the bunker. 

Sam met you in the garage when you arrived and you immediately ran into his arms for a much needed hug. You held onto him for as long as possible until Dean pulled you away and passed his brother your bags. 

You had been to the bunker a few times before but never for an extended period of time. Most of your time was spent in the library with Sam doing research or in the kitchen for a quick dinner before off the to War Room for a game plan overview. Dean guided you to his room where your bags were dumped on his bed by Sam.

“You can have your own room,” Sam offered. “There’s plenty.” 

Having your on safe space was appealing, but from the scowl Dean was giving Sam, it probably wasn’t the best idea. “Maybe when he starts to snore,” you teased, “but I think I’ll be okay in here.” Neither brother objected and Sam left the two of you with the promise of dinner when you settled in.

“You’re not going to get clingy and overbearing are you,” you scowled at Dean. 

“No,” he returned your frown. “If you want your own room, we can get your own room.”

“That’s not why I asked,” you sighed and resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “I’m a grown ass woman, I can take care of myself. Promise me you won’t go caveman on me?”

He held his hands up in submission, “You have my word.” Somehow, though, you knew he was lying.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner, Neflix, and chill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like writing this story. Thank you for reading it. I love you. :)
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated.

You were starving by the time you finished unpacking. Your stuff mixed with Dean’s and you weren’t sure how you felt about it but he didn’t seem to mind. Nevertheless, there was a long of discussion as to what you could and could not have, none of it involving you, of course. Your head ping ponged between the brothers as they spoke. Sam wrote down suggestions from your visit with the doctor and, of course, from their quick search on Google. Dean settled on chicken with sides of mashed potatoes and spinach which you gave no objection to as long as ice cream could come after.

Sam ran out to grab the order he called in which left you and Dean alone. “How you holdin’ up,” he asked, his feet kicked up on the war room table as you casually scrolled through the website they used earlier. 

“Fine,” you shrugged. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” he parroted and pulled on his beer. “You sure?”

You looked up from Sam’s computer and sighed, “Didn’t we just talk about you not being clingy?”

“I’m not,” he argued. “I’m just making sure you’re okay. You’ve been in a car for a majority of the last two days, I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

As calmly as you could, you closed the lid of the computer, wove your fingers together atop of it and leaned forward. “I’m fine. I’ll continue to be fine until I tell you otherwise. I’m only seven weeks pregnant and we have a long way to go. If you want me to stay in this hole with you, then you’re gonna have to stop,” you lifted a hand and waved it in his general direction, “whatever it is that you’re doing.”

Dean’s brow pinched in annoyance, but he held his hands up in defeat. “Okay. Alright. I get it. No need to be dramatic.” You opened your mouth, your started to flush and he quickly amended, “Not dramatic, bad choice of words.”

“I’m going to go lay down. Wake me up when Sam gets here.” You could feel his eyes follow you before you disappeared into the maze of the hallway. Eventually you found his room, which was now yours, too, apparently, and you climbed under the sheets. The foam mattress curved to your body and the sheets smelled like Dean, all whiskey, motor oil, and a cedar musk that was too comforting for your tastes, but made you give into sleep easily. 

You whined as a gentle hand shook you an hour later. “Food’s here,” Dean’s quiet timbre informed. “Want to keep sleeping?”

Sleep did sound nice, wrapped in a warm Dean cocoon, but your stomach cried out for food. “‘M up,” you grumbled and cracked one open to see him grinning down at you. “What’re you smiling at?”

“Nothin’. C’mon, it’s gonna get cold.” He held a hand out to help you up but you ignored it and scooted out yourself. 

Your hair was a mess and your clothes were rumpled from sleep but the face he gave you made your bad mood falter. “Stop it,” you rolled your eyes. His expression turned innocent but you could see the twitch of his lips. “Food?” 

He lead the way back to the kitchen where Sam had already started to plate for you. “You’re amazing,” you groaned when you flopped down next to him. You leaned your head on his shoulder and felt the muscles move underneath as he dished out your meal.

“I picked it,” Dean reminded you.

“And he went to get and he’s plating it for me like a gentleman,” you teased, Sam matching your shit-eating grin that made his older brother scowl. “Thank you, Sam.” He slid the plate in front of you and you returned the gesture with a kiss on his cheek which only soured Dean’s mood.

Dinner conversation had nothing to do with babies or pregnancy, no monsters or demons, just you and Sam catching up on the latest Netflix binge you both had and started to make plans to see the newest Jurassic World. Dean interjected when he could, but Sam took up most of your attention until your plate was clean after two helpings. 

Full and sated, you leaned back in your chair and rubbed at your belly. “Thank you for dinner, guys,” you yawned. “Might go back to sleep, that okay?”

“Of course,” Sam nodded at the same time Dean replied with, “Yeah.”

You pressed another kiss to the side of Sam’s head and headed back to the room and the bed that you were slowly falling in love with. After you stripped down to your underwear, you slipped underneath the blanket with a content sigh.

Dean joined you soon after you found a comfortable position. Neither of you said a word as he stripped down to a single shirt and his boxer-briefs to wiggle in next to you. The tv on the opposite wall flickered on and the flash of Netflix spilled across your bodies until he started to scroll through the selection. He queued up The Last Jedi and as much as you wanted to sleep, you couldn’t deny yourself Star Wars.

You turned onto your back and found his arm extended towards you with his eyes trained on the screen. There was hesitation on your part yet again, but you slotted yourself against him and accept the arm that wrapped around you.

Halfway through the two of you abandoned the movie in favor of exploratory kisses. The arm tucked under you moved from your shoulder to your hip when you twisted and curled around his side. His free hand ran through your hair after he pulled it from your hairband and came to rest in a curl around your neck. Your fingers twisted into his undershirt when his teeth dragged along your bottom lip. 

It wasn’t fair how one man could make you so angry yet weak in the knees with need. “I hate you,” you sighed against his lips but stole a few more kisses. You felt his mouth turn up into a smile as he chuckled and returned every kiss with one of his own. “Don’t laugh, I’m being serious.”

“Yeah, I know.” His nose bumped against yours before his kisses trailed from your lips to the rest of your face. “Can’t hate me around the kid, though, heard that’s not good for their mental development or whatever.”

You closed your eyes as he continued his assault with his lips, “Guess that’s true. I’ll try to play nice when they’re around.”

“Thanks,” Dean snorted. His hand moved from your neck to cup your cheek and ran his thumb along your bottom lip. Your eyes to flutter open to meet his intense olive stare when he whispered, “You’re beautiful.”

“Bet you say that to all the gals,” you retorted but leaned up for yet another kiss.

“Only the ones carrying my baby,” he sighed into your mouth and forced his weight against yours. You rolled onto your back and he settled between your thighs before he licked into your mouth and rolled his hips against yours. Shamelessly, you moaned and rocked back.

His hands began to explore your body freely, something he didn’t get to do the last time he had you pinned beneath him. Thick, warm palms cupped you through the thin layer of your sports bra, your nipples hardening almost instantly to his touch. You loathed how easily your body reacted to him, but it felt so good to given in, it felt right.

He kissed from your lips to your jaw and nipped at your collarbones where he pinched pretty red marks that he was sure that would last for a day, two if he was lucky. You pushed a hand into his hair, the other rested along his shoulder blade where you rewarded him with a tug or a scratch whenever he did something you enjoyed, which was practically everything. 

Once again he had you whimpering and whining underneath him like a virgin on prom night, wordlessly begging for more and he gave it to you once he had you out of your bra and panties. His mouth latched onto your breast, his wet tongue swirled and flicked at your nipple when two thick fingers slid down your slick folds. “Jesus, you’re soaked,” he murmured against the meat of your chest which earned him a slap to the back of his head. “Ow, what was that for?”

“Less talking, more sexing,” you demanded and rutted against his fingers. He apologized with a gentle kiss to your nipple before he moved to its sister to praise it with his devilish tongue and pushed two fingers into your core. You groaned as your eyes rolled into the back of your head and he stilled himself briefly for you to adjust before he slowly started to fuck you open. 

He released your breast with a lewd pop to lift his head up and watched as he made you come undone with a third finger. You whined and rocked down to meet his agonizingly slow pace in an attempt to coax him into giving you more, to give you anything but the slow, grinding pump of his hand.

“Hello, Dean,” the graveled voice drawled from the darkest corner of the room.

The both of you jumped and you might have yelped, but Dean’s, “What the hell, Cas,” overpowered you.

“Sam told me the news. I came to give my congratulations and check on the Winchester baby,” the angel explained as he stepped closer to the bed. 

Dean did his best to cover you up with his own body and blankets thought he looked like he was two seconds away from throttling his best friend. “Dude, the door’s closed for a reason. We talked about this, remember? Knocking?”

“Right,” Cas nodded and gave you an apologetic smile. “It’s nice to see you, Y/N. I’m sorry that I interrupted. It won’t happen again.” Dean slid off the bed and shooed the angel out into the hall. While you couldn’t hear exactly what he was shouting, you knew it couldn’t have been very good. 

You placed your hands on your belly and grinned, “You’ve got a weird family, kiddo. I hope you’re gonna be ready for us when you get here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr: @plaided-ani


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that updates have been taking forever, I hit some bad writer's block. It might be okay now.
> 
> This chapter is kinda filler. There’s a timeskip and action coming up, I promise. Maybe some smut, too.

Even with the embarrassment lingering in the air, you were still able to look Castiel in the eyes the next day and accepted his offer of checking on the baby. You sat on the edge of the table in the war room and he stood in front of you, hand on your stomach with his eyes closed and face pinched. 

Dean stood next to you, scowling. “Well,” he grunted, “what’s the verdict.”

“Growth is normal and healthy,” Cas informed, opening his eyes but not removing his hand. “This child was unexpected.”

“You’re telling me,” you snorted, but the angel shook his head.

“Everything about the Winchester and their future has been fated. Their bloodline was supposed to end with Sam,” he explained. “This child wasn’t meant to be.”

The bad mood that Dean had been in since the previous evening seemed to get worse with those words and he not so gently removed the angel’s hand from your stomach. “Well, it’s going to be, so Fate and her little book can shove it.” 

Your brows shot up at Dean’s hostility and you weren’t the only one taken aback. Castiel mimicked Dean’s scowl and took a few steps away from the pair of you. “Okay, Papa Bear,” you sighed, “put away the claws.” You placed a hand on his forearm and gave it a squeeze. It didn’t seem to placate him, but he did soften a bit when he turned to look at you. 

“I don’t need to tell you how dangerous it is to have this child,” Castiel continued. 

Before Dean could open his mouth to spit more venom his friend’s way, you hopped off the table and placed at hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “We’ll be fine,” you told him quietly. “We know the risks. We’re willing to take them, alright?” When you pulled away, you gave him your best pleading smile. He stared at you blankly until you moved away and back towards Dean. “You good?”

“I’m good,” he lied, but cupped your face and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Find Sam and see what he wants for lunch? I’ll be right there.” 

You nodded and searched for Sam, finding him in the library. “Everything okay,” he asked when you dropped into the chair across from him. 

“Baby’s fine,” you replied, “but Dean’s pissed. He’s probably yelling at Castiel. Again.” You picked up the idle tablet and leaned back in your seat to troll for cases. 

“So a typical Thursday afternoon,” Sam yawned, scrolling down whatever page he was surfing. “How are you feeling?”

You sighed and rolled your eyes. You spoke with Dean about his hovering, which didn’t seem to work, but you didn’t talk with Sam. “I’m fine, same old same old. We should talk about lunch.”

“I know a place that serves a really good tofu stir fry.”

“I was thinking about actual food, Sam. I’m dying for a grilled ham and cheese.” You swapped webpages and started to look for the closest place that would serve your favorite sandwich when Dean and Cas’s voice started to move closer, their tone tight and loud. 

Sam looked up and caught your worried expression, but he gave a reassuring smile. 

“We’re not talking about this anymore, Cas,” Dean snapped. “We’ve made our decision, get over it.”

Castiel said nothing further, but the look on his face said that he wasn’t done with the conversation. He looked to Sam pleadingly, but the youngest Winchester held his hands up, tapping out of that one. “Then I’ll double the warding until you want to talk about this.”

“We’re not-” Before Dean could argue, Castiel was gone. “I hate it when he does that.” With a annoyed grunt, he sat on the table near you and twisted to face both you and Sam. “We decided on lunch?”

“Grilled ham and cheese with fries,” you nodded, turning the tablet to show the small cafe an hour away. “Please?”

“Whatever you want,” Dean nodded. “I’ll be back.”

You moved to stand, “I’m coming with. I hate cold fries.”

But Dean looked to Sam and then to the side where Cas was just standing, “Maybe you should stay here.”

“You’re joking, right? You just spent ten minutes yelling at that poor angel and now you’re doing exactly the same thing! Biggest fucking hypocrit in the world,” you huffed. You shoved the tablet into Dean’s chest and stomped off towards the room you shared, immediately regretting not getting one of your own.

You climbed under the sheets, pulling them over your head as you forced yourself to calm down. You were getting worked up over nothing, really. What Castiel said made sense and even if Dean argued with him about it, you both knew that he had a point. Once the news was out, every baddie with a grudge or something to prove would be gunning for you and the baby. You weren’t safe, even in the warded bunker.

The door squeaked open and Dean poked his head in though you couldn’t see him. His heavy footstep made their way to your side of the bed and he sat on the edge. “I know we talked about this. I can’t help it, alright? I do the same thing with Sam and he hates it just as much as you do. And this is different, you know? That’s my kid.”

“Our kid,” you corrected.

“Our kid. I don’t want Cas telling me what to do, he’s done that enough. I don’t believe in destiny or fate or any of that bullshit. We make our own, always have, always will. I’m going to take care of you and the baby even if it kills me.”

You threw back the sheets and glared up at him, “Why does it always have to end with death with you guys?”

“Because that’s how it’s gonna end,” Dean frowned. “Look, it’s not like I’m going to look for it, okay? I meant it metaphorically this time.” He placed a hand over what he assumed was your leg and squeezed. “Neither of us planned this and it’s probably not going to end up with a happy ending, not like we want, but I’m gonna give that kid the life I never got.”

You sat up and hugged your stomach, “Yeah, I know you are. And I know that you’re just trying to do what you think you need to. It’s sweet, really, in a twisted sort of way. But you know that I’m not going to let anything happen to the baby or you or Sam or anyone. I may be a fuck up, but I take care of my own, too.”

“You’re sounding like a Winchester” he grinned before he slapped at your thigh. “See if you can help Cas with the warding, maybe that’ll keep him off our asses for a while. I’ll go get lunch.”

You reluctantly agreed and slipped out of bed. Dean pulled you to him once you were standing, a smile curled on his lips. “Careful, Dean, I might start to think you like me,” you teased, your hands twisting into his shirt much like the night before.

“Yeah, I might,” he murmured as he leaned down to press his lips against yours. Once. Twice. Your fingers left his shirt and wove into his hair, his hands slipped down to the curve of your ass and squeezed.

Sam cleared his throat from the doorway which caused you two to part. “Pretty sure that’s what got you two in this mess in the first place,” he grinned.

“What do you want, Sam,” Dean frowned.

“Caught a case not too far from here,” When your eyes lit up and your mouth opened, Sam interrupted with, “I can take Cas with me. Shouldn’t be too much trouble.”

“Oh god, don’t you start,” you groaned. “I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, Cas’ll enjoy it,” Dean nodded, ignoring your protest. 

Sam flashed an apologetic smile and disappeared before you shoved Dean away. “Seriously?”

“Let’s go get lunch.” He tried to reach for you but you pulled out of his grip. “You really want to be stuck in a motel room with Sam’s snoring? I’m doing you a favor.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” you frowned and pushed passed him. “Let’s go, Winchester.”

The ride to the cafe was slightly uncomfortable, every time Dean turned on the radio, you switched it off. He’d try to start up a conversation and you shot it down. When you were sat at the restaurant, he moved across from you with a frown, “Are you going to act like this all day?”

“No, just until you stop treating me like a child,” you retorted, grabbing a menu to block him from your view.

“It’s just one hunt, Y/N.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed, “And one will turn into two and two into three and then when the baby comes, I’ll be stuck playing Carol Brady while you and Sam go off and save the world.”

Dean snorted, “So that’s what this is about? You think you’re going to stop hunting?”

“Am I not? We’re going to have a child. We can’t just leave them alone or take them with us. What happened to you giving them the life you never had? Did you mind change in the last 30 minutes?”

“No, but we’ll figure something out. I know why you got into hunting, I’m not going to take that away,” Dean assured. “But we gotta keep the kid safe, right?”

“Right.”

“Then let me keep you two safe until we’re in a place that you can get back out there.” He was trying to compromise earnestly, you could tell.

You put down the menu and sighed in defeat. “Fine, but if I can’t hunt, at least let me leave the bunker once in a while.”

“You’re here with me now, aren’t you?”

“I almost wasn’t,” you pointed out. “We’re having a normal life, a normal family until I can stab ghouls in the head again.”

“And even after that,” Dean nodded in agreement. “Big ol’ happy, monster killin’ family.”

Satisfied, you waved down the waitress and ordered your meal, extra fries and a milkshake. “Eating for two now,” you grinned at Dean’s curious expression. 

“Careful, you might make me start more than liking you,” he half teased.

You rolled your eyes playfully and locked one of his feet between yours underneath the table. “Guess that doesn’t sound so bad,” you grinned, “at least for the baby’s sake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr: @plaided-ani


End file.
